


We Were Fine All Along (She's The One)

by Griffindork



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Minor Octavia Blake/Lincoln, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:06:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6013246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griffindork/pseuds/Griffindork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stop eye-sexing, I need your help to put the dress on.” Octavia jokes, but still Clarke’s heart misses a beat and she swallows heavily, pulling away from Raven’s proximity. She hadn’t been aware they were standing so close. “Someone painted my nails.”</p>
<p>Raven rolls her eyes. “At least we’d be getting some.”</p>
<p>Or, the one where it's Valentine's Day and Raven and Clarke end up alone and it just so happens they love each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Were Fine All Along (She's The One)

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!

Clarke’s eyes skate over Octavia’s reflection in the mirror, laughing at something Raven’s saying by her feet. She looks beautiful and Clarke’s stomach rolls with nerves. She threads her fingers through brunette hair, running through it a few times and watching as the tresses fall away from her grasp.

“I was thinking up.” Octavia says, her eyes meet Clarke’s in the mirror, smile still lingering on her lips. Raven looks up, glancing between them, nail polish in one hand and the brush in her other.

“Yeah.” Raven agrees, pulling Octavia’s hand into hers. “Maybe pull some braids in.”

Her voice fades into a mumble, no longer paying attention to Clarke and Octavia’s hair dilemma. Her as her tongue pokes out in concentration and she squints at Octavia’s hands, running the brush over her nails delicately. Clarke feels her lips tug up and she glances down, tampering down the way her stomach bursts with butterflies. When she looks up she’s met with a single raised eyebrow and a smug, all too knowing smile on Octavia’s reflection on the mirror.

Clarke clenches her jaw, ignoring her stare and she pulls, maybe a bit harshly, Octavia’s hair back into her hands.

 “Stay still.” Raven warns as Octavia barks out a laugh. She tightens her hold on Octavia’s hand and pulls it closer, shuffling forward on the floor.

Clarke heaves a sigh, pulling Octavia’s hair between her fingers, twisting it and pinning it and brushing through it. Octavia winces every so often and Clarke apologises while Raven giggles and nudges her knee, “The price of vanity, O.”

“I just like having Clarke’s hands in my hair.” Octavia teases, kicking Raven in the knee and sticking her tongue out.

Clarke rolls her eyes, pulling Octavia’s head straight and directing her to look in the mirror. She glances over her shoulder, noting the time. Lincoln should be here soon.

“When are you two going to get ready?” Octavia moans, watching Raven move onto her toes. “We’re never going to get out at this rate.”

Not that Octavia knows that. Raven glances up and her eyes meet Clarkes and Clarke can just _tell_ that she’s grinning underneath her grimace. She smiles wryly at Raven and rolls her eyes, running her hands though Octavia’s hair just for good measure.

“In a minute.” Clarke promises. “We have enough time.”

Octavia squints at her, pursing her lips. “You’re so solemn today, Clarke.”

“It’s _Valentine’s_ Day _._ ” Raven answers and her voice twists with disgust. “We’ve had to listen to you _moaning_ all day.” She gestures with the nail polish at Octavia’s chest as though to poke her. “‘Oh, _Lincoln_ texted me this morning. He said he _loves me.’”_ She flails dramatically, bringing her hand to rest on her forehead and tipping her head back. “‘I wonder what Lincoln’s doing now.’” An exaggerated wail leaves her mouth and she pretends to cry, “‘I can’t believe it’s _Valentine’s_ and I can’t even _see_ my _boyfriend_.’”

Octavia punches Raven’s shoulder to shut her up, glaring dangerously at her friend whose only response is to snort out a laugh as she falls onto her butt. “You can shut up too, Clarke.” She warns.

Clarke holds her hands up in surrender, failing to stifle her giggles. She watches as Raven sits herself up and winks in her direction. Her stomach rolls and she feels her mouth run dry, glancing quickly away and into Octavia’s hair again.

“I think I’m done.” She says to distract herself, letting Octavia’s hair fall into place. “What do you think?”

Octavia leans forward, inspecting her hair in the mirror. She grins, nodding. “Don’t you think it’s a bit over the top for a few drinks?”

“No such thing.” Raven promises, waving her hand in dismissal.  “Done.”

Clarke watches as Octavia inspects her nails with squinted eyes, searching for any misplacement or bubble in her nails. She rolls her eyes good naturedly, stepping back and pulling the dress from the hanger. Raven stands and makes her way to Clarke’s side. Her hand comes to rest on the small of Clarke’s back and Clarke smiles in response.

“He’ll be here soon.” She whispers, eyes fixed on the dress. “He’ll lose his shit.”

There’s barely contained excitement in Raven’s eyes, dancing below the surface of soft brown irises, and Clarke feels her own excitement build again. Her fingers fiddle with the dress in her hands, thumbs rubbing the soft material. Raven taps her fingers against Clarke’s spine and they share a grin while Octavia stands.

“That’s the plan.” She whispers back exaggeratedly and she bites her lip at the fond grin that adorns Raven’s face.

“Stop eye-sexing, I need your help to put the dress on.” She jokes, but still Clarke’s heart misses a beat and she swallows heavily, pulling away from Raven’s proximity. She hadn’t been aware they were standing so close. “ _Someone_ painted my nails.”

Raven rolls her eyes. “At least we’d be getting some.” She takes the dress gently from Clarke’s hands and walks to Octavia’s side, helping her pull the vest gently over her hair. And she looks so unaffected that Clarke has to take a breath just to stop the way her chest squeezes.

She rolls her eyes at herself – since when was _she_ the dramatic one? - and begins to make her way over to help the pair. Raven is stood behind Octavia, eyes watering with laughter as Octavia struggles to free her arms.

“I guess we know who the smooth one of _your_ relationship isn’t.” Clarke snorts out a laugh as Raven pulls back, holding her stomach.

The faint sound of knocking echoes down to corridor and Raven’s laughter stops. Clarke’s eyes flicker to Octavia’s confusion and to Raven’s anticipation, she pulls her lips in, fighting the grin, and points her thumb over her shoulder.

“I’ve got it.” She spins on her heels, making her way towards the bedroom door, fighting to remain normal.

“You need better underwear.” Raven’s voice echoes down the hallway decisively, pulling Octavia’s attention away from Clarke’s hasty exit.

Clarke’s grin pulls fully at her lips and a small, quiet squeal makes its way past her lips and she walks rapidly, sliding on her socks to the front door.

When she unlocks it, Lincoln stands there, trying in vain to straighten his bow tie with a bunch of roses grasped in his fist. He just about manages to return Clarke’s grin with a nervous grimace.

“Roses?” She asks, slapping his hands away and straightening his bow tie gently.

“Too much?” He asks nervously, shuffling on his feet. There’s a light sheen of sweat coating his forehead and he keeps swallowing every two seconds, eyes darting over Clarke’s shoulder in search of his girlfriend.

“No.” She promises, grabbing his hand and squeezing it gently. She pulls him in, kicking the door shut behind them and moving to stand before him, pulling at his blazer lapels and smoothing them down. “She’s going to love it.”

“Right.” He mutters, nodding to himself.

“You look very handsome.” She assures him, gently pulling his hand away from tugging at his shirt collar. She holds it between her own, squeezing every now and then. “Everything’s set?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “The restaurant. The car. I’ve booked us a night in the hotel. Spa.”

“She’ll love it.” She promises again, just for good measure. He nods again, but she doesn’t think it helps his nerves.

“Clarke!” Octavia’s voice echoes down the hallway and she can hear the stomp of her feet hitting the hardwood. “Where are you?” Lincoln’s hand tightens impossibly on Clarke’s and she squeezes back once before letting go and stepping back.

She doesn’t think Lincoln even notices her absence, he grasps the bunch of roses between his hands and straightens his back, standing tall as Octavia rounds the corner.

“You ne- Lincoln.”

Raven appears behind her shoulder, grinning brilliantly as Octavia stops in her tracks. Clarke watches as Octavia works out what’s been going on and she narrows her eyes in Clarke’s direction for only a second before her eyes flitter back to Lincoln, wide and surprised, grin slowly pulling her lips up.

“You look astounding.” He promises in a whisper, but his eyes never leave hers and he begins to step forward. Raven gently nudges Octavia forward with a poke in the back and when she runs into Lincoln’s waiting arms Raven skitters over to Clarke’s side, bumping into her shoulder with a giggle.

“They’re gross.” She whispers, folding her arms over her chest, and watching as Lincoln gently sets Octavia on her feet and offers her the roses.

“They’re in love.” Clarke defends with a laugh, nudging her shoulder into Raven’s.

“Ew.” Raven mutters. Clarke turns to offer her a glare but instead she just finds Raven’s amused eyes fixed on the side of her face.

She can feel heat rise in her cheeks, and she looks down, eyes flittering closed for a second before she looks back up. Raven looks at her _tenderly_ and she doesn’t know why but her heart still skips painfully and she still has to gasp in more air to accommodate it.

“Okay, so we’re going to go.” Octavia interrupts loudly, her hand holds onto Lincoln’s shoulder tightly and his eyes never stray from her for more than a second. Her eyes are fixed on the two of them and Clarke _hates_ that knowing flicker she shoots between them, eyeing the way Raven’s shoulder presses into Clarke’s. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 “So not much.” Raven snarks, rolling her eyes.

Octavia can’t fight the excitement that takes over her whole body, and she bounces on the heels of her feet, Lincoln’s arm around her waist holding her in place. She half-heartedly shoots Raven a glare, but it doesn’t have any effect against the grin lighting up her face. Raven snorts a laugh.

“Have fun.” Clarke says, stepping forward to usher them out.

“Thank you.” Lincoln says sincerely, looking between Raven and Clarke before his eyes go back to Octavia. “For everything.”

“Any time.” Clarke promises just as Raven rolls her eyes good naturedly and shouts, “You owe us” to their retreating backs.

Octavia skips alongside Lincoln, arms still around each other and Clarke smiles softly, rolling her eyes at their _smitten_ smiles as she shuts the door behind them. They don’t look back even once and Clarke feels her own joy for Octavia – she found a _good_ one.

She turns around to find Raven between the curtains, looking out on the street below. Slowly she makes her way to her side, nudging herself a space with her hip. She rests her chin on Raven’s shoulder, her hand wrapping around to rest on her hip, and feels Raven’s snort before it even makes a sound.

“He got a limo.”

“Yeah.” Clarke whispers gently, watching as he opens the door for Octavia. “He went all out.”

She feels Raven slowly turn to look at her, eyes raking over her face. Clarke tries not to blink, eyes fixed on the sleek black limousine parked on the pavement below and her breath shallows to an almost stop. The corner of her lips pulls up in to a smile at Raven’s expression.

 “Clarke Griffin.” She whispers too, and her eyebrows pull together, creasing her forehead in amusement. Clarke’s heart beats painfully against her ribs and she knows that Raven must be able to feel it but she can’t bring herself to pull away. She turns slowly, chin still resting on Raven’s shoulder, to meet brown eyes. “Are you swooning?”

Clarke smiles, small and simple, shrugging. “It’s romantic.”

“I think you need to get laid.” Raven answers back, mouth twitching in a smirk.

“Are you offering?” Clarke says without thinking, tongue licking at her lips.

Her hand suddenly feels heavy where it rests on Raven’s hip but she doesn’t move and her fingers pinch the material just slightly in an effort to remain effortless. Brown eyes look onto blue and Clarke thinks Raven’s trying to find something there, searching. She licks at her lips and her eyes drop, lingering on her lips for a few seconds before they meet blue again, eyebrow raised.

“Anytime, C.”

“I might just take you up on that.” Her throat is dry and it comes out as more of a croak but Raven just breathes out a laugh – and it sounds a lot like a pressure relieved - and if she notices she doesn’t show it.

//

(She thinks this has always been their relationship. Flirty and suggestive.

But she doesn’t know when her heart suddenly became invested in it.)

//

“Clarke.” She feels a bony finger poke her shoulder. She pulls away from it, scowling. “Clarke.”

“No.”

 “Clarke, we didn’t think this through.” Raven whines and she feels her legs lifted and lowered onto a lap. Hands tug at her jeans restlessly. “We don’t have any coffee.”

Octavia’s been gone for just two hours and all pretence of being productive left with her. They’ve been sat on the couch since she left, flicking through television. Which was a hard task with Raven resolutely vetoing every channel Clarke flicked over.

(“It’s _Valentine’s Day,_ Rae. _Everything_ is romantic.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to watch it, C.”)

She doesn’t know exactly when she fell asleep, but she thinks it was probably somewhere in the middle of the documentary Raven paused on.

“Go to the shop.” Clarke mutters, blinking her eyes open and directing a glare in Raven’s direction. She’s met with a pout that makes her heart squeeze.

“Yeah, but then I’d have to deal with gross couples.” She shrugs and her hands rub over Clarke’s ankles delicately. “ _Alone.”_

“You want me to come with you?” She suspects, eyes narrowing.

Raven nods eagerly, tapping on Clarke’s leg. “Well, seeing as you offered.” She grins cheekily, looking at Clarke though batted lashes.

“I didn’t.” She replies, pushing herself up, legs still in Raven’s lap.

“Please, C.” Raven pouts and bats her lashes again, fingers pulling at her pants again – and it’s so unconscious to Raven but it’s sending bolts of electricity though Clarke’s muscles, straight to her weak heart.

Clarke rolls her eyes at her own inability to stay stubborn with Raven. She pulls her legs free from Raven’s grasp and stands up. Raven’s pout stretches into the most _radiant_ smile and she holds her hands out for Clarke to pull her up.

She does so, effortlessly and carelessly, rolling her eyes but secretly smiling. Hands settle on her hips, pushing her towards the coat rack eagerly and she can hear the excited way Raven giggles silently in her ear, thumbs digging into her back, rubbing subtly. Clarke’s heart stutters and she tries not to think about how Raven’s closeness makes her short for breath.

She pulls her coat on and watches as Raven slips her boots on, lacing up the laces tightly.

They link arms as they walk down the street and Clarke can feel Raven shivering against the cold. She has her nose and chin hidden in her scarf but it doesn’t stop her from talking in muffled sentences and Clarke can’t really fight the fond smile that breaks out over her face at the sight.

//

(She think's Raven is cute.)

//

The bell rings above the door when they walk in and Clarke almost immediately regrets it. Her sentiment is echoed by Raven’s groan of displeasure. Everything is some variation of pink or red. The _Happy Valentine’s_ banner that hangs above the counter looks like it’s almost entirely made up of hearts and the cupid dangling above the till just looks _creepy._

Clarke unlinks their arms and settles a hand on Raven’s arm, pushing her in the direction of the tables. “I’ll order.”

“Thank god.” Raven mutters dramatically, walking away and dropping into a chair heavily.

Clarke laughs, shaking her head and walks to the counter.

“Good afternoon, dear.” Clarke smiles kindly, pulling her gloves off and rattling off their order to the lady behind the counter. “I can bring them over, dear.” She says, moving her hand in a _shooing_ motion towards Raven. Clarke turns and spots her in the corner of the shop, bundled up in her coat and scarf, scowling down at the heart shaped menu in her hands. “Go to your girlfriend. She looks like she needs the company.”

Clarke turns around, mouth opening and closing slowly as she tries to work out what the barrister had said. Realisation hits her like a punch to the arm and she shakes her head quickly.  “Oh.” She says and she points between her chest and Raven. “We’re not.”

“I’m sorry dear. I’ve just had so many couples in here today I can no longer tell the difference.” She smiles kindly but a blush still rises high on her cheeks. “I just assumed when you walked in: you looked all loved up, dear.” Clarke’s mouth gapes for a second but the barrister is already waving her hand in dismissal. “I’ll bring them over.”

Clarke pauses, pursing her lips before she shakes her head and blinks away the shock. She leans slightly forward on the counter, “Can you put an extra sugar in the cappuccino?”

“Of course.”

“She likes to pretend she doesn’t like sugar. But she’s never complained when I add in a sugar.” Clarke explains needlessly, shrugging. “Just don’t tell her. She’s stubborn enough not to drink it if you do.”

“They’ll be ready in a minute, dear.”

Clarke turns and walks away, cheeks flaming. She drops into the chair opposite Raven and pulls her coat off, huffing just slightly. She turns back to find Raven’s curious eyes fixed on her.

“What’s up?” She asks, eyeing the way Clarke’s cheeks glow. She smirks, sensing Clarke’s embarrassment.

Clarke pauses, mouth open and ready to tell her but she pauses. She looks over Raven’s amusement and the way she leans forward expectantly, cute grin in place and eyebrows raised in waiting. She thinks for a moment about not telling her best friend that the barrister assumed they were a couple – especially after earlier. But then she thinks that maybe that’s the exact reason she _should_ tell Raven about it.

She smiles, shrugging, “She thought we were a couple.”

Raven’s eyebrows raise in shock and she leans further forward on the table, forearms along the edge, fingers tugging at the paper heart shaped menu. Her grin pulls her lips wider and Clarke feels her eyes pulled to it for a second before she meets Raven’s eyes again.

“That bad of a concept?” She asks, eyebrow raised in challenge.

“No.” Clarke shakes her head, maybe a bit quickly. She swallows but bites her tongue from saying anything else.

Raven’s gaze doesn’t help her, fixed unblinkingly on her eyes and waiting for her to speak. Her grin settles down and all that remains is a small, unconscious smile tugging at the corners. Clarke’s heart misses a beat.

She opens her mouth, tongue wetting them for a second and Clarke feels her breathing stop in anticipation.

“One gingerbread latte.” The voice crashes into them like a lorry and Clarke blinks, suddenly pulled out of Raven’s orbit. Raven almost jumps out of her chair, leaning back to clear space on the table. The barrister slides the tray between them. “One cappuccino.”

Clarke can’t meet Raven’s eyes as the barrister slowly places their drinks before them on the table. She pulls the tray back towards her, holding it before her legs.

“Anything else?”

Clarke shakes her head, looking out of the window and she faintly hears Raven smile out a stressed, “No.”

She turns to leave and just as Clarke risks a glance up Raven’s hand shoots out and she’s gaining the barristers attention with a loud, “Sorry. Can we have the Couples Chocolate Cake.”

She rolls her shoulders, slipping her red coat off and pulls her scarf over her head. When the barrister registers her request with a confused smile Raven is grinning and watching the way her eyes flicker between Clarke and Raven in confusion.

“Of course.” She nods eventually, turning back fully and holding her tray to her chest. “Would you like it warm?” Raven nods and the barrister smiles, eyes flickering to Clarke’s shocked expression and back to Raven’s amused one. “One spoon or two?”

“Two.” Raven answers immediately and Clarke’s eyebrows pull together.

“I’ll bring it right out.”

“What-” Clarke asks as soon as she’s out of earshot. “She probably thinks I’m crazy now, Rae.”

“She wouldn’t be the only one.”

“Raven.”

She only met with laughter and she rolls her eyes, fighting her own grin. She leans forward, resting her face in her palms and shaking her head. Raven’s hands enclose over hers and pull them away, still laughing.

“Come on, C.” She pokes a finger at the crease on Clarke’s forehead. “It’s just a bit of fun.”

Something in Clarke _drops._ She smiles through it but it feels forced even to herself so she’s not all that surprised when Raven’s grin contorts into a frown of confusion.

“I, personally, love that you’re slightly crazy.” Raven supplies, still confused but continuing on anyway. The hands that still hold hers down squeeze comfortingly and Clarke’s heart kicks back up, she finds it hard to breathe. “Besides, it’s half price.”

//

(She loves Raven.

She's in love with her best friend.)

//

“We’re cutting through the park.” Raven had said when they stepped out onto the pavement, linking their arms together. “You have to buy me a drink for every person who thinks we’re a couple.”

Clarke had rolled her eyes and allowed Raven to tow her along in the opposite direction of warmth, giggling along the way. Raven whispered numbers into her hear every few minutes and Clarke snorted every time, shaking her head.

(“Rae, that doesn’t count. They literally only _glanced_ in our direction.”

“They smiled at us in _that_ way, Clarke.” She deadpanned, pulling on Clarke’s hand. “You know. The ‘oh, cute’ smile. And don’t even deny it, we’re totally a cute couple.”

All Clarke could concentrate on was the way Raven kept their fingers intertwined and arm wrapped around her bicep, shoulder to shoulder with Clarke.

She’s lost count of how long they’ve had their heads ducked together, bodies pulling together.)

When she sat on a bench – in part because Raven needed a rest and in part because she didn’t want to go home just _yet_ – Raven slid in beside her. She kept their arms linked together, hands fighting for warmth in the confines of Clarke’s coat. She leant into Clarke’s side, knee resting against Clarke’s. Clarke tired not to let her heart beat out of control.

They watched as a lady in her mid-sixties pushed her husband around in his wheelchair, one hand intertwined with his on his shoulder. They watched as she pushed him to the ponds edge, put his breaks on and plucked a loaf of bread from his lap. They watched as she sat beside him on the bench, watched as they shared giggles and smiles and began to feed the ducks together. They watched as she smiled down at her husband and kissed him tenderly.

The question was out of Clarke’s mouth before she even realised it: “Do you think we’ll have that?”

Raven was silent for a while hands stilling on Clarke’s arm and weight suddenly heavier against Clarke’s side. She waited in the silence that suddenly felt heavy, blinking against the cold and puffing her chest out in a fake show of confidence. She looked away from the couple eventually, glancing in the opposite direction, but everywhere they looked they were surrounded by couples. Laughing, kissing, running, pulling.

“We can go feed the ducks if you like.”

Her voice was soft and layered with teasing and Clarke blinked, turning back. She punched Raven in the shoulder, shaking her head. The silence returned then for a while and Clarke found contentment in it, liked the way Raven didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with chatter and she liked the way there was no pressure to fill it. She rested her head on top of Raven’s.

“Anyone would be a fool not to love you, Clarke Griffin.” Raven muttered after a while and Clarke’s breath stopped, the fog before her disappearing with its absence. She felt herself tense and she wasn’t exactly sure Raven had meant to say that to her.

But she _had._

And Clarke can’t stop thinking about it.

She watches now as Raven steps out of the bathroom, patting her hair dry with her towel, dark eyeliner smudged down her cheeks. She doesn’t spot Clarke sat on the couch watching her and she disappears into the kitchen. Clarke hears the familiar sound of the dryer clicking on and clicking off and the door slams shut.

Raven walks in, blanket wrapped around her shoulders and the only thought occupying Clarke’s mind then is _Cute._

She slides over the arm of the chair and sits beside Clarke, spreading the blanket over Clarke’s lap. Clarke watches her for a moment and she _knows_ Raven is avoiding her eyes just by the way she focuses so wholly on the moving shapes of _Love Actually._ She hates love films.

“That better?” She nudges gently.

Raven’s eyes don’t break from the screen but she smiles anyway – as tight as it may be. “Yeah.”

Clarke’s brow furrows and the only thought she can process is _What’s happened in the last hour?_ and she opens her mouth, not really sure what she was going to say but her phone buzzes and she stops in her tracks. Her heart thuds with the adrenaline rush, thankful and drained.

She leans forward, pulling it off of the coffee table.

“Octavia says thank you.” Clarke relays the message. “Her spa was _‘heavenly’.”_

Raven snorts in amusement but only nods, fingers toying with the blanket on her lap.

Clarke swallows down her annoyance and texts Octavia back, telling her to get lost and enjoy her day. She hasn’t even locked her phone when she gets a series of messages from the couple:

_Lincoln says you should tell Raven_

_That you love her. Just so we’re clear_

_I personally think you should just go in for the kiss_

_I bet you’d be surprised_

_It’s not like you haven’t kissed before_

She huffs, eyes wide at the messages. She glances up to make sure Raven isn’t paying her any attention, but _of course_ she isn’t. She morphed in the shower to a completely different person. She clenches her jaw, tapping out a reply. _That’s a bit different O._

She pauses, fingers hovering over the keypad before she types out furiously. _Besides she’s confusing me with all of this push and pull O I don’t know where I stand._

Maybe she should feel guilty about distracting Octavia and Lincoln from their date but when she mentions it she only gets a short reply of _we’re at the bar our table’s booked in half an hour,_ and then they’re straight back to Octavia once again trying to convince Clarke to abandon self preservation and tell one of her best friends that she loves her. Besides, she’s pretty sure Lincoln is way too into this because there’s no way Octavia would suggest a ‘meal out’ where they can ‘talk’.

_Why don’t you just ASK her what she meant when she said it, Clarke?!_

_I’m not a psychic._

Clarke huffs, pursing her lips and looking away from her phone. She looks out of the window and notices the way the rain lashes the window viciously, loudly. Humourlessly she appreciates the irony of the weather reflecting her own turmoil. When she turns back Raven has her head tilted, eyes directed towards her phone.

She feels her jaw drop and the blood drain from her face and she moves to pull her phone away but Raven is quicker. She has Clarke’s phone in her hands before Clarke can even blink and she’s tapping out a text and pressing send and locking the phone even quicker.

Clarke moves to grab it out of her hands anyway, adrenaline and mortification pumping through her veins. Raven laughs loudly, holding it up and out of Clarke’s reach. She swings a leg over Raven’s lap, leaning up to grab it out of her hands.

The height advantage works and she places a hand on Raven’s shoulder to make herself higher and she manages to wrestle it loose, a victorious smile breaks out over her lips and she pokes Raven in the shoulder in teasing.

Raven smiles at her _tenderly_ again and Clarke wants to know _why._ Her heart thuds painfully in her ears as loud as a canon blast and as distracting as a pin prick. Her breaths come heavy and mostly it’s to do with the way Raven’s eye soften on her face.

“Are you going to ask?” Raven whispers and Clarke feels herself blink slowly, swallowing heavily.

She looks down, needing relief from Raven’s gaze, and she realises that she’s straddling her lap, knees encasing Raven’s hip and hands holding Raven’s arms down. _Friends don’t do this,_ she thinks, heart thudding.

“What did you mean?” She whispers, eyes finding Raven’s again and flickering uncertainly between them. “When you said that in the park.”

Raven’s lips purse and the silence stretches, punctuated only by Clarke’s thudding heart.

“What do you think it meant, C?” Raven replies, eyebrows raising. And Clarke can see through her facade, she can feel her heart beating rapidly beneath her. She can see the way her throat bobs with each swallow and she can see the way her eyes refuse to blink. She can see the way her lips quiver just slightly.

“I need you to tell me.”

She sits back, resting on Raven’s knee, hands sliding down Raven’s arms gently, stopping at the crook of her elbows. Raven’s hands come up of their own accord, holding her hips in place. And Clarke is intimately aware of the brace – it’s the only thing that’s cold between the heat of their bodies.

“I need to hear you say it.”

The silence feels too loud then. It takes up every space in the room, overflowing and bursting at the seams. Clarke watches uncertainly as Raven’s lips quiver and open and close and around again.

“I-”

Raven’s voice sounds small and she swallows before she blinks and opens her eyes, meeting Clarke’s with renewed vigour.

“I think I really like you Clarke.”

Clarke smiles, relieved and suddenly light and her hands cup Raven’s cheeks, resting on the juncture of her neck. She leans forward, just slightly, stopping just before Raven’s face, relief escaping her in a laugh that’s nothing more than a breath.

“I think I really like you too Raven.”

Raven’s laugh skitters over her lips, warm and breathless and Clarke smiles, biting her lip.

“What happened in the shower?” She asks, frustrated. She pulls back just slightly, eyes taking in the way Raven’s cheeks dust with pink and the way she licks her lips nervously.

“I listened to my head.” She whispers honestly and Clarke shakes her head. She pushes forward, laughing and shaking her head.

“You think too much.”

“Someone has to be the genius.”

Clarke bites her lip, and she can’t fight it, doesn’t want to fight it, her eyes take in the way Raven’s looking at her right now. Soft and tender and careful.

Her eyes flicker down to Raven’s lips and back up. She watches realisation dawn on Raven’s face in the shape of her lips dropping open and the way her eyes darken just slightly and the way she leans forward is the only reply Clarke could ever want.

They close the distance together and when her lips finally touch Raven’s it feels like _relief._

It’s gentle and explorative and tentative. Raven tilts her head one way and Clarke tilts hers the other and Clarke pushes forwards, adding pressure and pushing Raven back into the couch, hands gentle on the side of Raven’s jaw.

They pull apart together, breathing deeply. She swallows, licks at her lips and she’s never before liked the taste of cappuccino as much as she does when it comes from Raven’s lips now.

“Is this-”

“Yes.” Raven interrupts, nodding.

She chases Clarke’s lips, hands gripping her hips and Clarke can’t bring herself to care all that much about the prints she leaves behind.

Raven’s tongue licks at her lips, delicate and teasing and laughs into it. She captures the tongue between her lips, letting out a deep laugh at Raven’s hitch of breath, she leans forward and captures Raven’s lips in a kiss again.

She feels one of Raven’s hands rise, running up the side of her body, fingers digging in and feeling every crevice of Clarke’s body over her t-shirt. Clarke feels herself moan loudly and she breaks the kiss suddenly, brown furrowing where it rests against Raven’s, when the hand stops high on her ribs, grazing the underside of her boob.

She looks down and meets Raven’s eyes and the look she shoots Clarke sends a pulse straight to her center. She swallows slightly to control herself, hands gripping just slightly in the roots of Raven’s hair.

“What did you tell, O?”

“I told her to fuck off.”

Clarke laughs, nodding. She pushes her lips against Raven’s again, fast and hard and Raven’s head moves with hers, returning the pressure. And it feels _so good._ She breaks the kiss again to repress the urge to groan when Raven growls in annoyance. It sends shivers down her spine and she rocks back on her hips.

“This is what you want?” She asks, she drops a kiss of Raven’s jaw, trailing a path up to her ear and back again down slowly, dragging her lips slowly. She stops at the corner of Raven’s lips and pulls back, eyes finding darkened brown. “Because this is more than sex for me. You have to know that, Rae.”

Raven is already nodding and her hand tightens where it’s resting high on Clarke’s waist. “I know.” She leans forward as though to close the gap again but then stops millimetres away. “I want it too.”

Clarke nods and Raven closes the gap then. Clarke moans into the kiss, hands falling back into Raven’s hair, still damp, and pulling her forwards, pulling her into Clarke. Raven groans loudly, teeth nipping at Clarke’s bottom lip in response.

Clarke pulls again and she’s rewarded with a harder bite to her lip. She moans and her hips jerk forward, searching for contact.

Raven’s laugh is _dirty._ Her hand tightens on Clarke’s hip, holding her in place as her thump lightly – _too lightly_ – traces over the top of Clarke’s bra before the trace of a touch is pulled away.

Clarke’s eyes flutter open at the loss and she breaks the kiss with a gasp when she feels a cold hand slide under her shirt. It makes its way up frustratingly slow, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake and Clarke can’t break her lidded eyes away from Raven’s dark irises.

“Raven.” She warns when it stops again and Raven leans forward, connecting her lips to Clarke’s neck as she slides her hand under the bar and cups her breast. “Fuck.” She breathes into dark hair.

Raven pinches and twists and leaves a burning trail of kisses over her collar bone. Her fingers tighten again in Raven’s hair and she feels teeth graze over her neck, nipping in warning as she delivers a pinch to her nipple.

“Fuck, Raven.” She mutters, hips jumping forward.

Raven licks at her neck one last time before she pulls her lips away, thump still rubbing over the hardened nipple. Her eyes are so dark Clarke is pretty sure they’re black now and she swallows, shifting her hips to stop the pulsing.

Raven’s hand moves around, pushing her t-shirt up and fingers fiddling with the loose waist of her pyjama pants. She tugs the waist, letting it snap back against Clarke’s stomach, _wicked_ grin hidden beneath the teeth that bite at her lips.

Her thumb never stops moving over Clarke’s nipple and Clarke feels her chest heaving. Raven waits, eyes never leaving Clarke’s.

She nods, quickly, desperately, and Raven’s hand flattens over her abdomen. Clarke feels her breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps, eyes watching the way Raven’s eyes darken with each passing second the lower her hand gets.

When she’s finally cupping Clarke she’s not sure whose moan is loudest but Raven drags her name out like a prayer and her eyes flutter at the feeling of Clarke in her palm.

Clarke pushes down, grinding on the palm holding her clit. Her breath hitches and she does it again.

“Clarke.” Raven breathes and Clarke puts her concentration into stopping the rotation of her hips. She stops and her hands fist in Raven’s hair from the pressure building inside her, she pushes forward, breath mingling with Raven’s, weight resting entirely on top of Raven.

“Please.” She asks, leaning down and nudging her nose against Raven’s ear. “Please, Raven.”

“Fuck, Clarke.” Raven breathes out and the way she says Clarke’s name has her moaning again. It does something to Raven, having Clarke moaning so close in her ear and she moves her fingers.

She runs them gently over her, circling her entrance before she dips in. The breath leaves Clarke’s lips in a long gush and she nips at Raven’s ear lobe gently with her teeth.

“Please.” She groans out, hips shifting.

Raven chuckles in her ear and the pressure builds in Clarke’ stomach, a bolt of arousal shooting through her muscles. “Please what, Clarke?”

Raven’s voice is deep and croaky and Clarke’s breath catches. Raven applies pressure to her clit with her thump, rubbing around it in circles. “Fuck me,” she breathes out but it’s little more than a moan. She attaches her lips to Raven’s neck, kissing and sucking and biting and Raven gasps in her ear, thumb stopping it’s movements. She tilts her neck to the side, hand cupping Clarke’s breast, trying to hold her in place.

She pulls her lips away from Raven’s neck, noticing with satisfaction the red mark growing below her ear. When her eyes meet Raven’s again it’s with a shift of her hips and it pulls Raven’s fingers deeper. Her eyes flutter for a second but she refuses to close them again.

“Fuck me.” She says and her voice is stronger and her hips rotate, riding Raven’s fingers.

Raven smirks and she finally – _finally_ – begins to move her fingers, thumb moving over her clit again. “You’re so sexy.” She admits watching as Clarke rides her hand.

Her movements get faster and Clarke’s hips get reckless with their movements, desperate and frantic the closer she gets to the edge. Her moans are loud, shouted into the empty flat with a creased forehead and heavy breaths and Raven feels her own arousal rise every time Clarke breathes out her name.

“Clarke.” She gasps out, feeling Clarke get closer, the way her muscles pulls her in further and hold her longer.

One of Clarke’s hands fists in her hair, pulling her head back roughly and _fuck_ if Raven doesn’t like her hair being pulled. Her other hand cups her jaw tightly and then Clarke’s lips are on hers, teeth nipping, messy and desperate. And Raven’s hands are busy fucking her and rolling her nipple between her fingers and her lips move hungrily with Clarke’s. They clash teeth and their chins jut together more than a few times but Clarke’s moans are increasing into a never stopping symphony in Raven’s ears and her hips move desperately on Raven’s fingers.

Clarke breaks away when she has to moan out loudly again, mouth open and brow furrowed as she pushes into Raven’s fingers. Her forehead comes to rest on Raven’s and she’s so _close_.

“Clarke.” She gasps out, curling her fingers just slightly again.

“I’m-” She pulls her forehead back, eyes closed and mouth open.

“Clarke.” Raven gasps out, curling her fingers. Clarke’s breath stutters. “Look at me.”

Clarke opens her eyes, fixing immediately on Raven’s. She pushes her hips harder and Raven curls her fingers, watching Clarke’s eyes as they dilate and pulse and they don’t move form hers – and it’s so _intense._ Clarke’s hips circle again and he curls her fingers again, hitting her just right and then she’s falling over the edge, gasping out Raven’s name.

Her head falls heavily onto Raven’s shoulders, hips slowing and breath coming in gasps. Her eyes close and Raven’s fingers still move inside of her, slowly, letting her ride out the waves. She slows to a stop and Raven follows suit.

“Fuck.” She whispers, still gasping for breath, into the crook of Raven’s neck. Raven chuckles in her ear, low and deep, tucking blonde hair back behind her ear as she pulls back, hands falling to Raven’s shoulders.

“Understatement.” Raven answers, pulling her hand out of Clarke’s pants. Clarke gasps at the loss of contact, eyes fluttering again.

“Yeah.” She swallows, opening her eyes again and finding Raven’s eyes fixed on hers. “Don’t regret it though.”

It’s not a question but it’s still there and in lingers for a moment in the air between their laboured breaths. Raven shakes her head, tucking tresses of blonde hair back gently. “Not even a little bit.”

“Good.” Clarke breathes out, leaning forward and connecting their lips in a sloppy, lazy kiss. “Because it’s not over yet.” She says when she pulls back and stands on weak legs.

Raven’s laugh is loud and really it sounds more like a moan and she follows Clarke back into her bedroom eagerly.

//

(Raven's moans are blissful and she looks like a goddess when she comes undone underneath Clarke.)

//

Blue eyes flicker open when she hears the faint bang. Her body aches in the best ways and she feels the hand wrapped around her middle pull her closer, a groan grumbled into her spine. A smile pulls at her lips and she bites at it, hand trailing down to intertwine her fingers together with Raven’s.

“Morning.” She whispers into the sunlight.

“I think it’s afternoon.” Her voice is little more than a croak.

“I was trying to be romantic.” She rolls her eyes, turning around in the crook of her arm. She meets brown eyes, watching her carefully.

A smile slowly spreads over Raven’s lips. “Morning.”

She leans forwards connecting their lips again. It’s lazy and sweet and innocent. She pulls back with a giggle, licking at her lips and biting her bottom. Raven laughs, hand caressing Clarke’s waist under the covers.

“Gross.”

Clarke’s brow furrows and Raven’s head snaps to the doorway.

“O.” She says in realisation, dropping her head heavily into Clarke’s bed.

“I’m guessing you both said that a hell of a lot last night.” Octavia laughs loudly, stepping into the room.

“Octavia.” Clarke groans, face twisting.

“No, you’re right. That was _not_ a nice mental picture.” She steps over Raven’s brace by the side of the bed and sits herself of the edge of the mattress. “And I thought _I_ was the only one with a story to tell.”

She taps at Raven’s stomach with a grin on her face. She’s almost bouncing the bed with her excitement.

“Octavia, we’re naked.” Clarke points out.

“I know. I think the trail of clothes directing the treasure hunt was enough information, thanks babe.” She winks frustratingly at Clarke and smirks when all she gets is a frustrated groan. “Besides, we’ve lived together for the past three years. Do you really think I’ve never seen you both naked?”

“This is such a different scenario to walking in while we’re in the shower, O.”

“Yeah, I know.” She stands up, grinning and claps her hands together. “Lincoln’s making coffee in the kitchen. You’re,” she points between them, “going to explain how Clarke’s pain-texts turned into this. And I’m going to explain how Lincoln proposed.”

She turns on her heel then, hair whipping behind her and walks out of the bedroom.

“You said yes?” Raven shouts after her, grin playing on her lips.

Her only answer is Octavia’s loud laugh echoing down the hall.

Clarke laughs at Raven’s frustrated groan, tightening their fingers together. “You’re cute in a morning.”

“I’m sex hungover. I’m sexover.” She answers with a pout. “I don’t need Octavia’s annoying.”

“She said yes.” Clarke answers, pushing herself up and over Raven, leaning down and running her lips over hers gently. She holds their intertwined hands above Raven’s head. “She wouldn’t say anything else.” She traces her lips over her jaw bone, smiling into it when Raven moves her head back, granting her access with a breathy laugh. “Let me wake you up.”

“If you insist.” She breathes out, eyes following Clarke as she kisses and licks and nips her way down Raven’s body.

//

(She's in love with her best friend and her best friend loves her back.

She thinks they might last.)

//

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I got sick of looking at this so I'm just posting it.  
> Sorry for any mistakes, they're my own.  
> Title is from She's The One by Robbie Williams (bc apparently he's my go to for this type of thing)
> 
> Feedback is Always greatly appreciated & welcomed.
> 
> hmu @ itsmyturntohide on tumblr. talk to me, promt me, flail abt the new season w me
> 
> Thanks.


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